Wraithcar Driver
by Fegerrific
Summary: Routine mechanical work is never routine when Mystery Incorporated is involved. What should have been Mystery Machine maintenance soon becomes monstrous mayhem when a long-dead racecar driver returns to take revenge on the living! Can Mystery Incorporated survive this deadly competition and unmask this demon driver? Based on "Wraithcar Driver" by John Rozum.
1. Mystery Machine Maintenance

"So what's the van been doing this time?" the grizzled, pudgy mechanic mumbled, stroking his week-old stubble and leaning over the Mystery Machine's inner workings. He pulled a wrench from a stained pocket on his beige coveralls and gave the fuel gauge a few whacks.

"It just has the tendency to stall in front of spooky old houses," Fred replied nonchalantly as the rest of the gang meandered around the dimly-lit garage. "I didn't think it was too much of an issue, but Scooby and Shaggy insisted."

"Well, yeh come to the right place," he murmured.

"It's great that you could help us with our car troubles, Mr. Tacoma," Fred said conversationally. "Especially as racing season is just starting. Aren't you the main mechanic for Jason Newport, the famous racecar driver?"

The mechanic wiped his hands on a greasy rag. "Eh, call me Sparky. Ev'ryone else does. And I am. Bes' mechanic he ever had. Just wish HE knew that!"

"I'm…sure he already does…" Fred replied, confused as ever.

Jason Newport, a slender young man with dark black hair strode up to the gang. He wore a kelly-green racing jumpsuit with orange flames embroidered on the sleeves. Similar flames were tattooed onto his forearms. He clapped a hand onto Sparky's shoulders.

"I do!" Jason replied jovially. "Ol' Sparky's just peeved because I couldn't give 'im the raise he wanted. I thought we explained all this, Spark." Sparky mumbled and turned angrily back to the Mystery Machine. Jason frowned. "No manners…speaking of manners, where are mine?" He extended his hand to the gang. "I'm Jason Newport. And you are?" Introductions followed hand-and-pawshakes. "Sparky's been my mechanic since I started on the racing circuit. He's just mad because I can't give him a raise this year unless I win the Coolsville 500 next week."

"You came in second last year, didn't you?" Fred asked.

"Yeah," Jason sighed. "But not this year. I've trained harder and got my car all tricked out for this race, thanks to Sparky here. Speaking of, can you take a look under my hood when you're done with their van?" Sparky harrumphed, barely looking up from his work.

"We're glad he has enough time to help us with the van," Daphne remarked. "It's been acting up all week."

Suddenly, a black racecar zoomed into the garage with a deafening roar and a puff of exhaust. The driver, wearing a helmet and a black jumpsuit embroidered with flames, leaped expertly out of the racer. He twisted off his flame-decked helmet and shook out his sandy hair. "Hey, Jase!" the driver called with a broad grin. "Great seein' you here! Last minute car checkup?"

"Yep," Jason replied. "What you doin' here, Stanley? Same thing?"

Stanley ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, gotta get this thing ready for the big race." He noticed Mystery Incorporated for the first time. "New pit crew?"

"No, these are my new friends; that's Fred, there's Velma, Daphne, Shaggy and Scooby-Doo. Sparky's working on their van as we speak. Everyone, this is Stanley Testarossa, one of the other racers."

Stanley shook hands (and paws) with everyone. "It's nice meeting you all. If you'll excuse me, I need to get to work on my car." He turned away from the gang and popped the hood of his racer, which ended up slamming back down on his hand!

Grimacing, Stanley lifted the hood back up to rescue his throbbing, injured digits.

"So, you think you've got that hunk of metal whipped into shape yet?" Jason teased good-naturedly.

"Oh, it's in great shape," Stanley replied breezily, pulling a wrench from his jumpsuit and tightening a bolt on the engine.

"You think you might actually make it past the starting line this year?"

"Oh, ha ha." Stanley straightened up, wiping his oil-stained hands on a rag. "You watch," he declared angrily, striding over to Jason. "I'll win it all this year, and no ghost or monster is going to stand in my way!"

The seriousness of his proclamation was lessened as Stanley turned on his heel and ran headlong into a support post. "I meant to do that," he muttered furiously, stepping around the post and stalking out of the garage.

"Stanley's come in last every year," Jason whispered to the gang once he knew Stanley was out of earshot. The sound of a crash outside caused the gang to wince. "And he's a little clumsy, to boot."

"Jinkies," Velma murmured. "So how can he guarantee he's going to win it all?"

"And what did he mean by 'ghost?' " Fred asked.

Jason sighed. "Well, kids, look like I've got some explaining to do." Suddenly, from outside came the deafening roar of a car engine followed by the cacophonous summons of a honking horn. "What in the WORLD?"


	2. Deadly Competition

Jason and the gang jogged out of the garage to see about all the commotion.

A vibrant red racecar gleamed in the noon sun outside. Beside the racer, dressed in an equally vibrant red jumpsuit, perched a dark-skinned man with oily black hair. "Hello, Newport!" the man called with a wave and a smug grin. "What do you think of my new racer?"

"It's very…nice, Vega," Jason lied with a false grin.

"I thought I'd let you see the front of it for the first and last time. During the race, all you'll see is the back as I cross the finish line first!"

"We'll just have to see, won't we, Vega?" Jason replied with a tight-lipped smile.

Vega grinned wolfishly, showing pearly white teeth. "We sure will," he snickered, striding cockily towards the garage. "We sure will."

Fred raised an eyebrow as Vega vanished inside. "Wow, he certainly is…an unpleasant man."

"That's Carlos Vega," Jason explained. "He's won the Coolsville 500 for the past three years. But I'll knock him off his high horse this year for sure!"

Sparky jogged out of the garage. "Hey, Jason, yeh might want to quit gabbin' an' come look at this."

"Please, please don't tell me there's a problem," Jason moaned.

"There's a problem," Sparky replied, taking Jason by the arm and propelling him towards the garage.

As Jason and Sparky vanished into the garage, Carlos emerged, swaggering towards his racecar. "Gonna get some practice laps in," he murmured to himself, leaping in through the racer's open window. "Watch how a master drives!" With a thunderous blast, Carlos took off around the track!

"Jinkies! He's fast!" Velma exclaimed.

"Looks like that green car could give him a run for his money, though," Fred remarked.

"Green car?" Daphne echoed.

Sure enough, an acid-green racecar had appeared on the track. Orange flames licked their way down the car's body and its grill was decorated with a macabre dragon-like skull. The driver wore a green scaly top and a dark green cape that billowed behind him; his face was only a grinning skull that cackled madly as it steered its racer towards Carlos' car.

"It's gaining on Carlos!" Shaggy exclaimed. "Look at it go!"

"Gaining? It's going to…" With a sickening crunch of metal on metal, the mystery racer smashed into Carlos' car, forcing it into a tailspin!

Mystery Incorporated cried out in shock and jogged over to help Carlos. In the confusion, the acid-green racer vanished; its driver's mad cackling still echoing though the stadium.

Shaken, Carlos clambered out of his racer and toppled to the ground. "Carlos? You okay?" Fred called. "Do we need to call you an ambulance?"

"I th-think I'll b-be f-fin-ne," he stammered. "G-g-guess-s I'm out of the r-race, th-though."

"Hmmm…that certainly is lucky for everyone else," Velma mused aloud.

"What just HAPPENED?!" Jason shouted as he, Sparky and Stanley, drawn by all the commotion, jogged onto the scene.

"Some nutjob just ran Carlos off the track!" Fred replied.

"It w-wasn't j-just some n-nutjob," Carlos stammered. "It w-was Axel M-Malon-n-ne!"

Jason, Stanley and Sparky gasped in shock, but Mystery Incorporated was just confused. "Who's Axel Malone?" asked Fred.

"Axel Malone is—or rather, was—the greatest driver in the Coolsville 500, some said greatest in the world!" Sparky explained. "Last year, during the race, he lost control of his car and crashed into the wall! The racer burst into flames, and Axel's body was never recovered. Now he's returned to take his revenge on the living racers by destroying their racers and rendering them unable to race. Three racers have already dropped out!"

"Hmmm…" Velma murmured skeptically. "I want to take a closer look at that wreck."


	3. Demon Driver

Velma picked around the dented pieces of metal that were ripped from Vega's racecar to get to the charred wreckage. "Jinkies," she murmured. "That ghost car really did a number on this thing. Vega's pretty lucky he wasn't hurt…or worse." Carefully, she ran her finger down a nasty dent, examining the damage before turning away from the wreck to examine the area around the racer. Dark black skid marks marred the Coolsville 500 racetrack. "Jinkies! Four skid marks…and two that vanish into nowhere…but…ghosts shouldn't leave skid marks…and what's this?"

Velma strode a few feet from the wreck and picked up a white object from the track, realizing instantly that it was a grease-spotted rag. She pocketed it and returned to the racers and the rest of the gang.

"What'd you find out, Vel?" Fred asked.

"Oh…just a few clues," she replied carelessly, noticing that Jason, Sparky and Stanley wore near-identical worried frowns.

"C-c-clues?" Carlos shuddered, securely wrapped in a towel by the side of the track. "Wh-what d-do you m-m-mean?"

"I mean that I don't think we're dealing with a ghost here," Velma proclaimed. "Ghosts don't leave skid marks."

"You mean someone ran Vega off the road intentionally?" Stanley asked incredulously. "But who would do such a thing?"

"I'm not sure…yet...I need a few more clues, though, to break this case."

"Then let's split up, gang!" Fred announced. "Velma, Daphne and I will check out the garage. Shaggy, you and Scooby stay out here and scout out the track. See what else you can find around the wreck." After a bribe of Scooby Snacks, Shaggy and Scooby agreed to the plan.

After leaving Scooby and Shaggy outside, Fred, Velma and Daphne traipsed into the garage to look for clues. Sparky bent over Jason's engine while, in the corner, Jason pressed a drink into Vega's shaking hands.

"Hey, look over here!" announced Fred, pointing to the floor. The girls followed his finger to see a trail of oil leading towards the back of the garage. "Let's see where it leads!"

The trio of sleuths followed the sticky trail of ooze until it led them to a shocking discovery…the back wall of the garage.

"The oil stops here," Fred stated. Daphne and Velma shot Fred looks to the tune of 'no duh.'

"Hmmm…then there must be a secret passageway," remarked Velma. "Cars leaking oil don't just vanish into nowhere." She and Fred both turned to Daphne. "Well?"

"Well, what?" Daphne asked, confused.

"Well, you're usually the best at finding the entrances to secret passageways," Fred replied. "It comes with the whole 'danger-prone' thing."

Daphne frowned and placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, ha ha. Very funny. Just because I'm 'danger-prone' means I'll always stumble into the trap, huh? Well, I'm not doing it this time!" She stomped her foot for emphasis, triggering a hidden switch. The back wall of the garage slowly rose up, revealing a hidden room! "Not a word."

Velma and Fred stifled their chuckles as the three detectives entered the secret room.


	4. Race for Your Life

Fred, Velma and Daphne tiptoed alongside the oil slick until it led to an enormous garage!

"Jinkies!" Velma exclaimed, shocked to see the ghost car sitting inside. "This must be our ghost driver's hideout!"

"Let's look for clues," Fred announced.

The trio searched the garage as quickly as possible, listening for any signs that the ghost driver had returned. "Look at this," said Velma, holding up a toolbox "It's been initialed: S.T."

"Like Sparky Tacoma?" Fred finished.

"Exactly!" Velma replied. "Now let's get out of here before…" Suddenly, they heard the secret door grind open. "…before the ghost comes back."

"Quick, hide!" Fred hissed, diving behind a stack of tires. Velma and Daphne skidded into their own hiding places just before Axel Malone leaped into his racer and started it up.

Meanwhile, Scooby and Shaggy roamed around the racetrack, looking around desperately for some clues and some food. (Not necessarily in that order) "Like, Scoob, I need a refuel more than these racecars do," Shaggy sighed as the duo passed by a stack of gas cans.

Scooby sniffed the air. "Rack rar!" he yipped.

"Snack bar?" Shaggy translated "Well, lead the way, Scooby-Doo!"

As the dog-and-detective duo strode off towards the food, Jason pulled out of the garage for a few practice laps. As he raced around the track at top speed, the ghost racecar screeched out of its hideout and zeroed onto Jason's car. With a maniacal laugh, Axel Malone jerked the steering wheel around and gave chase!

Shaggy and Scooby waved their arms wildly, trying to get Jason's attention as the ghost gained on him. Jason grinned and waved back. Suddenly, the ghost car slammed into his racer, sending both cars spiraling out of control!

Fred, Velma and Daphne raced onto the track just in time to see Jason's car slam sickeningly into the chain link fence protecting the spectators. "Shaggy! Scooby! Help Jason!" Fred demanded. He dashed towards the Mystery Machine. "We're going to get that ghost!"

While Shaggy and Scooby rushed towards Jason's smoldering wreck, Fred, Velma and Daphne leaped into the Mystery Machine to chase after the ghost car.

With a flick of his wrist, Fred expertly steered the van over to block Axel's ghost from escaping into his secret garage. As Axel frantically scrabbled at the wheel, he crashed into a stack of gas cans alongside the track. As the gasoline spilled from its plastic containers and intermingled with the spark plugs, a small fire crackled to life and quickly spread.

"Hurry!" Fred screeched the van to a halt and dashed out towards the flaming wreckage of the ghost car. "If he isn't a ghost, he'll need our help!"

Axel Malone wriggled through the window of the wrecked racer and rolled to safety just as the flames overwhelmed the car and caused it to explode! Carlos Vega, attracted by the explosion, grabbed a nearby fire extinguisher and dashed over to the scene, Fred grabbed ahold of Axel Malone (who was trying desperately to sneak away).

While Carlos attacked the flames with the fire extinguisher's foam, Fred, Velma and Daphne tied up the ghost of Axel Malone. Once the fire was extinguished, Jason, Shaggy and Scooby joined the scene as well.

"So," Jason said, nudging the captive ghost with his toe. "Who is it?"

"Let's find out," Velma replied, twisting the mask and helmet off their prisoner.


	5. The Mystery is Revealed!

"Stanley Testarossa?" Jason gasped in shock.

"Of course! Just as we thought!" announce Velma.

Shaggy looked puzzled. "Like, we did?"

Velma rolled her eyes behind her thick spectacles. "It was child's play to realize that Stanley was the ghost driver, thanks to this clue!" She hefted up the toolbox labeled with S.T.

"But, I thought that was for Sparky Tacoma?" Fred asked.

"I thought so, too," admitted Velma. "But I figured it was Stanley when I saw the ghost driver in action. Only a professional driver could have pulled off the moves the ghost performed."

"That makes sense…" Jason mused. "The last question is why?"

"No doubt he was trying to scare everyone out of the race so he'd win," finished Velma.

Stanley scowled angrily. "Yeah, and I could've done it, too, if it hadn't been for you meddling kids…and your dumb dog!"

"You could have gotten someone killed!"

"But no one got hurt," Stanley defended lamely as a police car screamed onto the scene. A tall officer with tousled brown hair exited the vehicle. A badge on the front of his blue uniform identified him as Officer Lawson.

"All right," Lawson snarled, jogging up to the scene. "I got a report of a citizen's arrest and…" he trailed off, noticing Mystery Incorporated for the first time. "Aw, criminey, you kids again?"

Mystery Incorporated exchanged puzzled glances. "Again, officer?" Fred echoed, confused.

"Yeah, again," Officer Lawson snarled, lifting the costumed Stanley to his feet and fastening handcuffs on his wrists. "Your constant meddling makes us look incompetent." He took Stanley by the arm and led him to the waiting police car. "I'll let it slide for today, but you kids better stay out of my way."

He loaded his prisoner into the backseat of the car, performed the childish 'I'm watching you' sign to the gang before leaping into the car and driving off.

"Jinkies," Velma breathed.


	6. Crime and Puzzlement

At the Coolsville prison, Stanley Testarossa leaned against the cold metal bars of his cell, struggling to hear the end of the Coolsville 500 from Officer Lawson's static-laden desk radio. "I-it-t-t'sss N-N-Newp-p-port-t-t com-ming d-d-d-down the track...with V-Vega hot-t-t on h-h-his tail…An-n-nd it'sss New-w-w-port cros-s-sing the f-finish lin-n-e! N-N-Newp-port WINS!"

"No no no no NO!" Stanley shouted furiously, banging on the metal bars before flopping down on his lumpy cot in defeat. "Meddling kids…"

"You forgot 'dumb dog,'" Stanley's cellmate, August Anderson, chimed in from the other cot.

A sudden commotion from the prison hallway caused the duo to look up. "NO! PLEASE!" came a shout as Officer Lawson escorted a struggling young man down the hall. "I'm innocent, I swear! I've never handled any counterfeit money! You HAVE to believe me! NO! PLEASE!"

Stanley raised an eyebrow at August, who only shrugged, before flopping back down on his cot with a sigh.


End file.
